


You've Come So Far

by thealphaace



Series: Blood On My Hands [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fighting AU, M/M, like they are mentioned by name once, the briefest mentions of kris letang and corey perry, there will be fighting later on i swear, without any actual fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphaace/pseuds/thealphaace
Summary: After years of being together, it was only natural that they had both collected and discarded numerous rituals. Such as the kisses exchanged, Freddie wrapping his hands at home and Connor watching, Connor driving them to the ring, the quiet prayer that Freddie used to whisper against Connor’s mouth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout out to the leafs gc because this probably wouldn't be a thing without them and an extra thanks to Em for beta reading this.

Connor stopped washing dishes when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around his stomach and a chin rested on his shoulder. He hummed as he turned around, leaning back against the counter.

“Getting ready?” He asked tucking his hands between Freddie’s biceps and sides; neither of them bothered that his hands were still a bit wet. Freddie murmured an affirmative as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Connor’s forehead. They were both smiling as Connor tugged Freddie’s hands away so he could press a kiss to the heel of each palm.

After years of being together, it was only natural that they had both collected and discarded numerous rituals. Such as the kisses exchanged, Freddie wrapping his hands at home and Connor watching, Connor driving them to the ring, the quiet prayer that Freddie used to whisper against Connor’s mouth.

The time spent watching Freddie wrapping his hands was easily the longest-standing ritual. No matter how many time he saw it happening, watching Freddie wrap his hands was a process that would forever be fascinating to Connor. There was really no reason for it, but ever since the first time he’d seen it, he couldn’t stop watching. It was such a methodical process, just like the rest of Freddie: it was slow and steady. Freddie did it so often Connor was sure he could perform the process blindfolded and probably a lot faster, but the wrapping was always performed at the same slow pace without fail. Connor knew it was the time Freddie took to get into a proper headspace and pull himself together.

He used to feign reasons to stay in the kitchen pretending to be doing something useful while Freddie sat at the bar and wrapped, but they were past that. Neither said anything to the other; Freddie sat the bar and Connor leaned against the counter across the way and just watched.

It wasn’t until Freddie was flexing his hands and making fists that Connor pushed forward, taking one of Freddie’s hands in both of his and brushing his lips against the fabric covering his knuckles. Twice on each hand followed by a, “Make sure you come back to me.”

It was premature, there was still time before Freddie would step into the ring, but these moments, the soft moments, weren’t meant for the ring. Not since Freddie moved up at least. It used to be said out of fear, but now it was a reassurance. Connor used to say it desperately right before Freddie would step into a makeshift ring while clutching the back of his neck.

When people find out what Freddie does for a living, the first question Connor always gets is, “How can you handle it? Aren’t you scared something will happen?” The answer is of course. It will never stop being mildly alarming to see Freddie bleed, but they didn’t see the bare knuckle fighting, to see the dirty fighting, they weren’t there to see the ambush that put him in the hospital.

Connor was used to the blood, was used to the violence, and in a proper league, there was at least a ref looking out for him. None of them would understand the relief he felt when Freddie told him he was gonna start fighting legally.

The only thing he missed about the underground fighting was being able to show up in literally whatever he wanted because really it didn’t matter. No one cared what he was wearing; now though, now it was always nice clothing because if the cameras weren’t panning over to him, he was talking to someone, and he couldn’t exactly be meeting sponsors or being shown on TV wearing some ratty shirt or a sweatshirt sans a shirt.

“You know I don’t really think it’s fair I'm the one stuck always having to dress up for these things,” Freddie laughed as he held the door open for Connor as they stepped into the garage.

“Oh yeah? Might be a bit difficult to wear a suit with these,” he replied wiggling his fingers at Connor still grinning.

“You could wear one after,” Connor huffed as they got into the car.

“I could,” Freddie said followed by another laugh, waiting until Connor was on the road before lacing their fingers together for the remainder of the short drive.

Just like every time before, after they were parked and reached the point where they would need to split up Freddie gently cups Connor’s face in his hands and kisses him.

“Have fun,” Freddie whispers still close enough that Connor can feel his lips form the words.

“Stay safe,” he responds in turn before they part ways. Freddie disappearing back into the locker room and Connor to his seat.

 

_[ Video clip from Freddie “The Great Dane” Andersen’s post fight interview ]_

 

Freddie walks into the room fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt and nodding to the reporters as he unbuttons his suit jacket before sitting down. He picks up the mic long enough to say, “hello,” before setting it back down and taking a drink of his water while he waits for the first question.

“Freddie, hey, to your right,” he immediately shifts, leaning forward to better focus and hear the journalist as he continues speaking, “did you make any changes to your training or focus more on your floor work coming into this fight knowing Perry favors winning with submissions?”

There’s a bit of a pause between the question being asked and Freddie picking up the mic.

“Uh yeah, I’m always working on my grappling and shit, has nothing to do with Perry. I never train for a person specifically, I just train in general.” He sets the mic down.

 

_[ The camera tightens in on Freddie as he acknowledges someone to his left giving a clear view of his right eye that is almost swollen shut ]_

 

“Freddie, over here. Now that you’ve beaten Perry what’s next? Are you going for the belt or are you going back up to heavyweight?” Just as before, there was another pause as Freddie gathered his thoughts before picking up the mic.

“Those are worries for tomorrow, and I don’t have any say in the fights, but if given the opportunity, of course, I’d fight Kris. Is there anyone in this business who isn’t trying for a belt?”

“Just a quick follow up to that,” Freddie sets down the mic and takes a drink as he waits for the question to be finished. “Kris has already made some comments claiming that you’ve become full of yourself with the new clothing and whatnot.”

Freddie smirked as he picked up the mic, “if they want to run their mouths that’s fine, I don’t really care what their opinions are, but uh, I think it’s kind of sad that they have nothing better to do than to stalk my husband’s social media. I mean I can’t blame them, if I wasn’t married to him I’d do the same thing.”

He sets down the mic once more and looks off to the side where the staff is speaking to him off camera.

 

_[ The camera zooms out as Freddie stands up straightening his jacket and buttoning it up before leaving the stage with a curt nod ]_

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series that are basically going to be like snapshots looking into the lives of Freddie and Connor and with that said all of the following fics will most likely center around what Freddie and Connor have done to get themselves to the point in which this fic takes place.
> 
> [tumblr](http://www.captainmorielly.tumblr.com/)


End file.
